


You’ve Got the Wrong Android

by PinkGluestick



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Language, Adult Themes, Affection, Alcohol, Angst, Awkward, COULD BE CONSENT ISSUES, CRINGE for real, Confusion, Connor being awkward, Connor takes the brunt of it, Cringe, Fluff, Hank being too protective, Idiots, M/M, Miscommunication, Mistakes, Misunderstandings, Pet Names, Pining, Possible issues with consent, Pre-ejaculation sort of, Sweet Talk, Trans Character, Trans Connor, Trans!Connor, coming too soon, connor having feelings and not knowing what to do with them, connor wanting/trying to be too protective, cursing, seriously idiots though, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGluestick/pseuds/PinkGluestick
Summary: Hank takes home a hot little thing at Jimmy’s while Connor is supposed to be his DD.He’s feeling pretty good about himself, for once, but then that nagging feeling that something is wrong starts to swarm him like bees on honey. Whatever’s up, it has something to do with how weird Connor’s been acting lately.It was just a one night stand, how did they end up here?





	You’ve Got the Wrong Android

**Author's Note:**

> POSSIBLE CONSENT ISSUES
> 
> CUMMING TO FAST
> 
> MISUNDERSTANDINGS
> 
> I don’t know what I’m forgetting here, or in the tags. My washed up brain. There’s probably a ton of mistakes in here like all my shit.
> 
> Anyways  
> ****be careful viewing****

It’d been years since Hank had gotten lucky. He knew that was his own fault, opting to turn anyone that showed any interest away. It wasn’t until recently that he’d found the motivation to have sex again, but Hank had always been something of a wanted man. Plenty of men and women chased him. He realized the effect that so much as his voice could have on a dry pair of panties when done right.

But tonight, he wasn’t looking for one of those lovely ladies or cocksure men. He was interested in a different meal.

The soft brown eyes that’d been sizing him up since his 5th shot was looking delicious. He didn’t seem intimidated by Hank either, making his way over talking in his ear against the music. His words weren’t meant for seduction, instead murmuring that Hank should ‘stop drinking’. He had to admit he thought it was kind of cute this stranger was so worried about his health. 

Yet the real tease was the voice.

It was angelic. So soft and breathy, and oh, so tempting. Hank was already too drunk to feel bad for imagining it screaming. 

The young man stayed by his side the whole night, talking Hank’s ear off about something? He vaguely remembered hearing about his work life. Maybe. That was pretty cute, too- that this kid was trying to get to know him. As if Hank really needed charming to get him out of his pants.

It’d been ages since he’d laid someone down and took them for a ride, but tonight, he was getting his fill.

He downed another shot, stopping that sweet, little mouth mid-sentence with wide, surprised eyes. The guy was really intent on getting Hank sober it seemed and had a few choice words about it.

Hank wasn’t sure, as adorable as this guy was, that he wanted to remember this, though. He reminded Hank too much of Connor, and the last thing he wanted to think about was fucking his coffee machine, by the book, coworker.

The thought of Connor holding a conversation in bed with his series of ‘certainly, Lieutenant’s, and ‘that’s the correct location. Excellent.’s was a hilarious nightmare. Connor with his legs over Hank’s shoulders, getting railed into the mattress - if he even had a hole to fill- and analyzing Hank’s alcohol levels. It was almost enough to kill his buzz.

But then that sweet voice came close again, right in his ear.

“We should get you home.”

Hank brought his hand down a little heavier than he’d intended, and a little too high on the man’s thigh. 

He jumped, gasping softly.

“That an invitation, pretty boy?”

Pretty.....

The young man swallowed.

Pretty.....

Hank watched his face change to fluttering lashes and nervous smiles. He hadn’t noticed before, but the kid was an android; his ears were turning blue.

He stared at the bar for a while, just thinking. Perhaps collecting himself while Hank felt him up with a hand the size of a bear paw.

He wasn’t sure if he was alright with making his first fuck in 5 years an android. The revolution was only a year ago and Hank still had some issues to work out. Mainly whether humans were meant to fuck someone who was intended to be a sex toy at one point. It felt sleazy to pursue anything.

“Ah...maybe you would like to be alone when you get home. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight.” 

Hank wasn’t sure what kind of pick up line that was supposed to be. 

His hand started kneading his thigh through the jeans. The man was definitely responding to this, to Hank’s voice, and Hank decided that maybe he was just being the shy type. 

Assuming that was true, he had no problems with a good chase.

He turned towards the android, one elbow propping him on the counter.

“Or maybe I would like some company.”

He squeezed him hard and winked.

The other seemed to be very familiar with that gesture, and there was suddenly no room for misinterpreting. 

He shimmied around, sitting a bit straighter as heat pooled in the pit of his circuitry. Hank’s hand in his lap felt like it became that much heavier. 

It made a warmth against his jeans that would surely linger when Hank moved it. It tightened, pinning the smaller man, and destroying his composure.

“What..s-sort of company?” He practically squeaked.

“Whatever I can get.” 

Was Hank being creepy? He probably was, wasn’t he? 

And yet the younger man hadn’t tried to move away.

Hank noticed the flickering LED at his temple. It went yellow, standing out vividly against the grayish walls of the bar.

“I...could stay and assure you get your rest, as well as proper headache treatment.”

Hank’s hand slipped taintalyzingly close to his groin as it moved to cup his hip. The other jerked in anticipation. There was no way Hank hadn’t meant to tease him like that.

“Headache treatment?”

“You’re sure to have a violent one after the amount of...al-alcohol you’ve consumed- Oh~”

“Is that right?”

Hank dipped his thumb under the androids jacket and into the hem of his jeans. He drew a circle over what an android had for a hip bone with a feather light touch.

“You like that?”

“Uhm, we should get you ho~home!”

His face had gone blue, but he managed to get the words out.

Hank’s thumb strayed a little too far, moving from the sharp joint to the fleshy place that ran above his boxers.

He stood, practically jumping off the bar stool, before Hank could get any farther.

“You’ve had enough. We’re leaving.” 

He knew he probably shouldn’t. He’d come here with Connor as his DD, annoying as it was, and he didn’t feel right just leaving him. But Hank came here on a mission, and Connor could learn to take a hint for once. It wouldn’t stop Hank from taking this guy to bed either way. Hank was embarrassingly desperate.

The younger man pulled Hank to his feet and led him out of the bar. He’d have to thank Jimmy later for letting him leave with such a fine little thing on his arm. Usually he’d stop his other patrons before they went and passed their keys off to a stranger. In this case, he supposed the smooth, polished man leading him out was no more a threat than a Shiba puppy was.

And Hank could definitely handle himself if there was a struggle, drunk or not.

He vaguely remembered the drive home, except for a moment when whatever blood was left his brain went south, and he unzipped his fly, pulling his cock out. No matter how intoxicated he was, he wouldn’t forget this kid swerving onto the thankfully vacant sidewalk for a long time yet.

Hank made a show out of it. Stroking himself from root to tip, skin bunching and smoothing around each stroke of his palm. He worked himself in a promise to the other man what was to come. That all of this cock the size of a fetish toy would soon be his and stuffing him up.

Hank knew the way his size affected people. He knew he was above average in every regard, but he always got a kick out of enticing them. The way they stared and gaped and moaned, eager to be drilled with the thing. He could definitely say it’d given him a bit of an ego, but he had to take pride in something somewhere.

Else there’d be nothing to keep him going.

He had to marvel at Connor’s role in his life lately. Probably not the time to, but...

All jokes and irritation aside, Connor was the reason, and the only reason, Hank had found some hope again. He stayed busy now, mentally, which was the most important thing. He didn’t think about all the horrendous things he’d seen and done whenever he had Connor around. And Connor was always around, even just in the back of his mind. 

His dumb faces making equally dumb jokes. The frequent dog sitting and celebrating holidays together. He was pretty bad at that, actually, but so was Hank. They had their thing, Connor would come over after work twice a week and just hang out. Hank thought about those stupid, insignificant times a lot where they did little else than stare at the tv. It was comfortable and Hank wasn’t so lonely like that.

Without Connor, Hank wouldn’t be doing much of anything these days except waiting to die- by his own hand or other.

While drinking was still a big past time of his, at least he was getting some tail out if it now.

When they pulled into his driveway, Hank was stumbling out of the passenger side as soon as possible and thrumming with adrenaline. He shouldn’t get so cocky, yet, having done little to woo his mate. But he was finding that the rush grew stronger with every step he took. Sex after such a rampant dry spell must do that sort of thing to you.

Before he could reasonably think it over, as he was far past any of that tonight, Hank was at the driver side, throwing the door open.

The android who was still unbuckling himself startled as he was promptly lifted from the seat. 

He didn’t struggle. The sudden shock more likely to blame as Hank wasn’t exactly heating up that ‘wooing’ meter yet.

Or so he wrongly believed.

Hank tussled the android over his shoulder like a doll and heard him make these desperate, little noises. Hank definitely planned on hearing more of those later.

He carried him through the front door, throwing a little wave at Martin next door who was watering his flowers at 12 in the morning. Hank wouldn’t even regret that later, too focused on his pretty, new catch. Fuck ‘em.

He moved through the living room, petting a confused, whining Sumo, and took them immediately to the bedroom. He hadn’t bothered to close the door, just dropping his mate on the bed and shucking his coat off.

The android was all wide eyes and mute tongue, watching as Hank undressed himself. Watching Hank handling his cock. 

They hadn’t been there for more than a minute, and the android was already letting a man two times his size paw at his jeans and touch him everywhere. Hank cupped the bottom of his ass and hoisted him with a yelp into his chest. 

All this against the man’s better judgment. 

He knew he should say something, and it’s not like he hadn’t tried exactly.

He was pulled out of his jeans blessedly without having Hank tear a hole in them. He didn’t struggle when he was moved like some weightless thing to sit real pretty on Hank’s lap.

Things were moving at light speed. 

Before he knew it, there was kissing at his throat.

The younger man held on, finally giving in to eye-rolling, soft, shaken moans. His hands skated up and down Hank’s bare chest until they got caught between their fronts when they went too low. Hank didn’t mind of course, rutting against the android’s palm; trapping it there and holding him close. 

He squirmed, heat pooling in funny places while he tried to adjust himself against Hank’s solid chest.

Hank whispered something the non-drunken equivalent of ‘What’s your name sweetie?’ right as his cock was brushing against one of the wet holes opened to him. He received a name too garbled and broken by moans to use.

He could ask again, but GOD help him, he would much rather tease.

“Well tonight, your names ‘Sugar’. Because this,” Hank buried his teeth right into Sugar’s artificial jugular.

“Tastes so sweet.”

The man moaned louder than before.

Hank was right to assume him the soft sort. 

Hank’s candied words were met with howls and moans and a nice pair of toned thighs spreading wider for him. He reciprocated immediately to Hank’s affections, clearly peaked by his sweet talk.

Hank was not a wasteful man, it should be mentioned. 

He had the android on his back in the throws of Hank’s messy sheets with the cutest little look of surprise on his face.

Then Hank shoved his head between his thighs. 

He sucked, and nipped, and laved, and stroked at the holes oozing precum, or what he assumed was the android version. It was a well deserved reward for managing to keep his legs open so patiently. He showed no resistance against Hank’s advances, and such obedient sweethearts deserved a good, thorough, tongue lashing.

“Good baby.” Hank praised him and enjoyed his shaking.  
“Sweet baby. You’re so damn edible, you know that?” He probably sounded much less articulate than that, but the reaction was all the same perfect.

Sugar screamed and nearly climbed himself up the sheets, twisting and turning.

He thought he heard his neighbors banging on his door at one point. It was 3:30 something by the time Hank had had both of the man’s holes fucked roughly for the fourth time, and the poor thing lay spread eagle with his face in the pillows. 

Hank supposed that was enough to work off his hell of a dry spell and that he should let the neighbors get their sleep finally. 

He‘d gladly assume full responsibility for all his partner’s screaming if anyone asked. He wasn’t super keen on the amount of cum he’d left on the bed, but his friend was soaking up as much of it as he could. It wasn’t easy with his holes being stretched as they now were. Hank wouldn’t hold it against him if every now and then another little gush came drooling out. Sugar was unconscious, anyway.

He didn’t so much as stir when Hank gently pet those soaking slits after the last round. This kid was something special. He took everything Hank gave him with this starry-eyed glow in his fucked out face.

He didn’t even try to crawl away from him when Hank held him against his fat cock in a bruising grip, fucking him right into another orgasm. He screamed a little louder, shook a little more, but happily sank onto his elbows and rubbed his chest in the sheets when he eventually gave out. That was the most fight he’d given Hank the whole night.

Hank had happily accommodated the new angle, too. He released the android’s hips, wrapping his arm around that slender waist. He cried out so beautifully until the windows nearly shook, and Hank crushed him down into the mattress, fucking him akin to something like rabbit sex.

Hank passed out long after his new friend and didn’t wake again until noon. 

Thankfully, by the grace of good friends, Connor had called in sick for him and Fowler waved it off.

Sugar was no where to be found when he woke, not even leaving him a number somewhere. It was probably for the best that way. Hank was only good for a one night stand and some taboo fantasies, anyway. That kind of aftermath where you woke up realizing you’d been fucked by somebody like him was not something savory. He probably called a friend the second the poor thing wandered out naked into his kitchen and saw the trash heaps he’d been fucked in.

Bless his heart.

Hank spent the rest of the day in an incredibly unusual mood. He felt like...not sitting. Or watching tv. Or thinking about drinking. 

To his and Sumo’s surprise, Hank finally got the bathroom cleaned. Then the bedroom. Fuck the kitchen, though, one thing at a time. 

But he was proud of himself. He hadn’t had the psychological energy to clean in months, as it usually felt like a waste of whatever good energy he had.

He took breaks to do things slow, thinking about the hot fuck he’d convinced to come home with him the rest of the day. He even decided he might shoot for the same good time next week. 

By 6, he finished what he felt was a pretty good amount and reveled in his small accomplishments over dinner. 

It was...surreal, sort of. He tried not to think about how infrequent this mood was likely going to be. That he’d probably never clean again for months, and months, and this would all be for nothing. 

He needed to just enjoy this right now while it was here.

Sumo curled up with him on the couch. They watched tv together for a few hours until it started getting dark.

A clinking sound suddenly came from the front yard. He’d finally gotten around to moving the trash cans up there and debated about it being the lovely raccoon family coming to visit again and whether he should bring Sumo to scare them. Unlike his other neighbors, the raccoons were kind enough to leave him with something whenever they visited. 

A mess.

He scrubbed his face, shooing Sumo off his lap and went to handle them before they got into tipping something. 

Hank opened the door, and made it all of three steps to the trash cans when he noticed a pair of legs kneeling on the other side of his car. 

There was only one person who knew where Hank lived, and this didn’t look like a break in.

“Connor?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant.” 

Surprise, surprise.

Hank moved around the hood of the car to get a look at Connor ducking to see underneath it.

“I came by to give you your coat back. You left it with me last night.”

Hank couldn’t remember much of anything before getting his dick wet. He didn’t even remember how he’d lost Connor in a near vacant bar in the first place.

“Oh shit.” He took it and stared between Connor and the car.  
“Thanks....What are you-“

“I noticed there was some damage to your tire. The undercarriage is pretty scraped up, just inspecting it. You might want to get it realigned.”

Hank suddenly felt like the cat that caught the canary.

“That, yeah. I took a hot thing home last night, and he had a hard time getting us here.” Hank almost made an innuendo as to why that was, but that kind of bragging wouldn’t rub off on Connor. He wouldn’t know to congratulate him on ‘getting tail’ like Chris or Ben would. Not without making it sound awkward, and ruin the high.

Connor didn’t say anything, but his shoulders noticeably tensed. Hank felt the need to clarify for his partner’s sake.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t because he was drunk.”

Connor gave a little nod that he’d heard him. 

“And he wasn’t the type to just mug me or steal the keys.”

“You’d have no way of knowing that, but alright.” 

Connor was being unusually stiff with him. He stood after he’d gotten whatever details he’d wanted, and was aware Hank was scowling at him. He averted his eyes, fixing his cuffs back in place.

“It was probably unwise to give your keys to a stranger...” he muttered.

It probably was, but Hank could handle himself.

“Yeah? I don’t expect you to understand. A guy like me has got to take a chance somewhere at this stage of his life.”

Connor didn’t look impressed by that, but he didn’t test it either.

“I’ll be see you at work, Lieutenant.” 

And that was that. 

As strangely as he’d come along, Connor was on his way- leaving on the weirdest note.

Hank didn’t know what to make of it, or if he should make anything at all. His partner had always been an oddball, hardly making good sense to Hank at the best of times. There was no real evidence this was something worth digging up as Connor was unlikely to have any preference on the matter- outside of Hank handing his keys to a stranger. If it wasn’t about his health, Connor generally wasn’t concerned.

Definitely an annoying feature of his that Hank had rather instantly grew fond of. It was jarring the first time this irritating bootlicker chastised his calorie consumption at Chicken Feed all those months ago. But it had been no less endearing. 

Hank surprised himself that he was favorable to it. It was more surprising the robot possessed such a means of concern, though.

Hank ultimately didn’t bother looking into it. When they met the next morning at the precinct, Connor was just as pleasantly formal as he often was.

He wasn’t sure for the longest time if the strange stiffness was just a Connor thing or what. Many androids, like his friends at Jericho, were a good show of what having human qualities were. 

Hank tried not to put stock on how human-like their race was or wasn’t. Of course Hank didn’t believe that was some kind of way to measure them, that was fucking ridiculous. Yet, these thoughts often appeared now and then when he considered how weird Connor was.

Little things set him off- like the far too detailed conversation they had about Hank’s dirty dishes. He went on a rampant critique about scum build up and bacteria, although for the sake of his partner’s health. There was three minutes there were Hank sat almost drooling his brains out listening to Connor explain proper washing etiquette. He thought that perhaps if Hank knew how, he’d be more inclined to clean them.

Fool-proof.

That was just one tiny example, but it was one of Hank’s secret favorites. If that did not highlight the absurdly robotic behavior, then what would?

Connor syncing with the toaster?

The point being with others to compare him to, Hank always found it odd that Connor was so.....’programmed’, still. He hadn’t met another android like Connor.

Definitely not that one from the bar. 

He was nothing but unabashed emotion, crammed into a metal casing. 

His voice. His cries. The way he sang Hank’s name.

His tone was so relaxed and smooth, granted he was in the midsts of getting his clit sucked.

Of course he’d be anything but Hank’s pillow-talking angel for the night.

His face complimented his voice, too.

Sweet. 

Big, precious eyes. Soft, panting lips. Sharp jawline. His skin looked porcelain- save for what darkness Hank could see coloring his cheeks in the dim lights.

“Lieutenant.”

Hank startled. He blinked until Connor sitting in his desk came into view. He was making that stupid face where his brows raised curiously and made him look like a puppy.

Hank sat up, not sure how long Connor had been trying to address him.

“Could you please tell me your pass code.” 

Hank could tell it wasn’t the first time Connor’d asked him that. He grunted and scribbled it down on the corner of a wrapper off his desk.

Connor found it was easier to access Hank’s records himself rather than ask for a summary. Hank trusted him enough to leave him in charge of his damn bills, so accessing his records was nothing. It was the fourth time Hank had had to change the password at Fowler’s demand they stopped doing it, though.

“Thank you.” Connor took it and turned back to his screen.

Hank saw him just staring for a while, not doing anything. Not like he could say anything, so he turned his attention back to his phone. He’d been hooked on finishing this article about the ‘android parenting’ debate. 

Hank would do his work later without Connor doing it for him in the five minutes it’d take instead.

“You seem distracted.” 

Connor was careful in the way he said it.

Hank scowled back at him.

Connor was doing that thing where his mouth parted in that dumb, little way. Like Hank couldn’t yell at him if he looked innocent enough. 

It clicked what Connor’d just said, and he gave shrugged.

The android was more invested than that, though, and Hank could tell that this was about to get annoying.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Nah.”

“You haven’t said anything all morning.”

“Do I normally?” Hank was pretty sure he was grumbling less often these days. There was less to complain about.

“Usually to comment on how the coffee tastes like paint.”

Never mind then.

“Mm. I’m fine Connor.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You seem very distant.”

“Connor! Calm down, there’s nothin’ going on with me.”

Connor stares. His mouth drawn in a thin line giving way to the faintest hint of a frown. Whatever that’s about, Hank decides to ignore it and turns back to his phone; Connor follows suit and pretends to look busy with his terminal.

The silence would be uncomfortable if Hank wasn’t used to Connor’s awkward behavior. A very small part of him wondered if he was just trying to make conversation. He wasn’t too skilled in that department, so Hank made sure to be on the look out for when it showed. 

Connor didn’t actually say anything for nearly the entire shift after that.

It was...weird. Despite his lack of social skills, Hank could rarely get him to shut up- even if it was just statistical rambling. 

They spent the rest of the day in silence, and as he was leaving the precinct,Hank couldn’t help thinking about how strange Connor was acting the other night.

He was stiffer than usual- struggling to keep eye contact.

No, that wasn’t it. That would imply something that Connor wasn’t capable of. He was rarely flustered, but embarrassed was even less likely. 

Hank had probably just caught him off guard. To be absolutely fair, he’d be surprised his old, crusty partner could still get it, too, if he were Connor. He wouldn’t blame him for being grossed out.

That complicated the logistics a bit, though. He was still pretty convinced Connor didn’t understand the first thing about a man and his lay, and wouldn’t really know to be revolted by the idea. Sex was a mystery to him. He’d admitted so at the scene of an erotic asphyxiation- Boy, was that a fun night.

He tried not to think about it anymore when he got home. Hank wanted to enjoy himself a little before bed.

He didn’t make a habit out of porn. He liked his imagination more than the mess the actors on screen usually made. It wasn’t realistic, and it wasn’t nearly as good as the things he could do. 

Was that a bit cocky? Sure- but he’d allowed his recent conquest to go to his head. 

Tonight was no exception. 

The house was looking good, he was in a good mood, Sumo hadn’t dug through Mrs. Florence’s pansies and tracked mud into the kitchen for once.

Hank could afford a little indulgence tonight.

He got comfortable in the bedroom after kicking the furry giant out. Tonight’s featurette was Hank’s hand and the boy from the bar.

Stunning, slick lines. Soft, big eyes and bowed lips. The man’s light hadn’t flickered back to blue until Hank had officially railed him into unconsciousness.

It was perfect; just what his cock needed.

He set to work with lube from the night stand. The little twist in his wrist was expert, and one he’d liked to have showed the man if he’d been given more time. He worked into each jerk, pulling at the ridge of his cockhead, bunching the thick skin. His pace was brutal, but the pleasure far outweighed the force. 

He was always a bit impatient when he was by himself. Hank didn’t like all the wading when he could skip right into a tight grip and a hard fucking. It was the only pleasure in being alone for so many years.

He stroked himself, imagining it was the android at the bar. 

Flush face, soft skin, soft ass. GOD, softest ass he’d ever spanked. 

He kissed like Hank was his first. He moaned like the poor thing’d never been touched before. Hank remembered chanting “I got ya, sugar. I got ya.” anytime he wailed at the ceiling with his head thrown back.

Sometimes the pleasure of his thick cock became too much for him, and he threw himself into Hank. He clung to him for dear life, keening and crying, and Hank just swallowed him whole.

He kissed his throat and dipped his fingers in the seam of his thigh, pushing him apart. Fucking him apart.

Hank spilled over his hand, cupping and tugging at himself. 

The mess was manageable, even if it had somehow gotten to the nightstand. He was surprised to be so worked up over a one night stand, honestly. He didn’t realize how far his beer goggles had gotten in this scenario.

The room was deathly quiet again.

Like all things, this would be over soon. The likelihood he’d bag another date like that and feel like he was worth something again would only last as long as the living room was clean. Maybe another week, then. Nothing was forever.

As if to jeopardize any happiness he was capable of, a familiar sinking feeling settled in Hank’s gut that he’d become very familiar with. 

Nothing lasted forever, so why not give up now? Why enjoy what was there when it’d all be gone soon? How could he enjoy it knowing that? 

It’d only be harder to let go of if he didn’t now. 

That in mind, Hank abandoned any chance of seeing the cute android boy at the bar and was stacking beer cans in his kitchen rather than the trash can again the next day. 

——————-

Connor was becoming...worrisome. He was still short with Hank and a bit derisive of all things. 

If it was about the hookup, and it likely was, Connor didn’t need to worry. Hank wouldn’t be throwing his keys at another stranger or opening his door to them anytime soon. Or probably ever.

He was forced to balance this scale that was alway heavily outweighed on one side.

When nothing was going right, Hank was doing fine. When something was going well, Hank’s brain went on a personal mission to destroy him- not just the recent subject of his happiness. It began to pick at every little thing wrong in his life, whether it was something in his control or not. 

It was exhausting.

The only thing keeping his head above water was Connor. His brain couldn’t tear down Connor no matter how hard it tried, and at first, it did. 

No matter how it worked it out, Connor had no faults. He’d proven he’d be there for Hank like a lifeline, and he would do it time, and time, again. 

The recent moodiness, though. He could do without that. 

It was making it really hard to stay dry from the raging storm inside his head.

“You find anything else on this Schaner woman?”

“Nothing of interest.”

“Mm, pretty weird considering. If her first record with the police is DFCS, I’ll be surprised.”

He imagined Connor saying something about there being ‘less common oddities’ than that for the sole sake of arguing. 

Connor liked to do that- liked to push Hank’s buttons and turn the switch off on his patience. It was his thing. It sort of made Hank feel better when he did, as it gave him somewhere to put his snappiness without harming anyone.

Instead, Connor nodded and left for the break room. 

Hank sat there confused if he’d done something to offend him. That was a silly thought since he’d only been at work for three while minutes, but he had to wonder. 

Three minutes and Connor was already running away from him. He left to go stand with Miller in the break room.

But they had work to do, and Connor couldn’t stay away for long.

Why would he want to?

The drive to the residence was unnerving. You’d think it was because they were riding through a notoriously anti-police part of town, but Hank believed they had bigger problems.

Connor still hadn’t said anything more than a sentence. Not just for the ride there, but for the whole day. Not since they’d left the precinct.

“Hey, Con. Doesn’t that guy look familiar.” 

“I don’t think so, Lieutenant.”

“You sure?”

“I’d like to focus on our current objective, if it’s all the same to you.”

He kept his tone pleasant. He obviously didn’t want to arouse any suspicion in Hank, but he was doing a poor job of it by ignoring him half the time.

Neither one of them actually knew the man Hank had randomly singled out. The point is if he was looking for a similarly dismissive answer, then Hank could read this off as one.

He tried not to let it bother him Connor was ignoring him.

Connor just must be in some kind of mood, although Hank had never seen one like this before. Perhaps he’d made it a goal not to let him see it. Deviancy still took some leaps and bounds out of Connor to navigate. He‘d admitted so on more than one occasion. Maybe that’s what this was.

He couldn’t ignore Hank forever.

.....Why would he want to?

The woman they were keeping tabs on was under watch by DFCS. She had three children, one of which had died under ‘mysterious circumstances’. 

If she wanted to keep the other kids, she had to live with her sister. The weird part, in Hank’s opinion, was she didn’t have any criminal record before the incident.

The DPD was still asked to accompany the DFCS workers who’d been sent out to check on her. This was usually Gavin’s work.

Linda Schaner was now living with her sister in unfortunately what was a two person apartment. Everyone inside would be cramped and on edge. 

Hank fucking hated these calls. 

He wished Gavin would come back from leave already and take his bullshit back. As far as Hank cared, he could keep this and whatever nightmares he’d get out of watching these families fall apart.

Homicide, sad, sick, and depressing as it was, was Hank’s thing.

Connor followed behind as they went in through the side door to meet the DFCS workers on scene. 

Schaner looked ready to punch one of them the moment they set foot in her kitchen. 

One of the workers filled them in as they found they had just entered a surprise screaming match. Hank didn’t care if she was cursing them to their deaths, so long as no laws were being broken. That wasn’t the issue here. For whatever reason, Schaner was particularly upset to have her house filled with ‘strangers’, and was using that as an ass backwards excuse to keep the kids from them. 

She screamed about her sister letting them in here against her will, even if it wasn’t her house.

“Miss Linda.” Sam, the worker who’d been engaging her before they’d arrived, was pissed.

“You know what we’re here for. Its the same thing every time.”

“I told you they’re fine! Get out of my house!”

This is no doubt why Hank and Connor were called here. 

Classic noncompliance.

“No. We need to talk to the children. Miss Linda it’s illegal to-“

“Get out of my house! GET OUT! You don’t have the right to be here!”

From the corner of his eye, Hank could see Connor’s light spin red.

“This is your sister’s house.” He said, walking behind Sam.  
“And you can’t stop DFCS from doing their job, ma’am.”

She didn’t like that.

“I didn’t say they could come in!”

Schaner glanced over at another woman who’d been so quiet Hank hadn’t even noticed her there.

She turned around so fast, they thought she was about to unleash a smack down from hell on the poor woman.

“You let them in!”

“Linda-“

“They’re my kids! I don’t have to let them see my kids if I don’t want to!” 

Her sister scrambled towards a wall.

Shit, this was heating up fast.

“Hey!” The furious tone in Hank’s voice caught her attention long enough for her sister to scamper off.

Hank wanted to throw Gavin at Fowler to be butchered for failing to put this behavior in her file. Connor might not be too favorable of that. 

He’d become protective of the few people Nines’ was ‘fond’ of.

“Linda.” Sam was putting his foot down on this.  
“You let us talk to Ellen and Melanie, or these men will take you away. Take you away, you understand? You’ll lose your kids.”

“I didn’t clean the living room. You’ll take them away if you see!”

“No, we won’t. We aren’t concerned about a little dirt.”

“I haven’t gotten them dressed yet!”

Hank was ready to end this before there was legal action. Maybe this woman deserved the benefit of a doubt, as little patience as he had.

“You can’t obstruct them from doing their job. We’d have to arrest you for that.”

“I don’t know you. You my kids can’t talk to strangers.”

Alright, this lady wasn’t worth her salt. No more patience.

“That’s a pretty bad excuse.” 

“Well, that’s a pretty tacky shirt. And who the fuck are you supposed to be!” 

How did Gavin deal with this woman? Why hadn’t he mentioned her spiteful fucking attitude on paper somewhere?

“Listen.” Hank closed the distance, slapping his hand on the kitchen table when he was about a foot away. His voice went dangerously low.

“We are the guys who have to take you away if you don’t let DFCS talk to the kids. That’s all we want from you, alright?”

Silence.

Schaner made the ugliest face he’d ever seen and reeled a hand back. She slapped him hard, though a bit off target, across the cheek.

“Linda Ann Schaner, you are under arrest for assaulting an officer, failure to comply with the law, preventing a social-“

Hank stopped listening as Connor drawled on, content to just step aside and let him cuff her. 

Fuck, that lady had a good swing.

NOW she had that criminal record.

Hank worked his jaw with his hand, already feeling sore. He couldn’t help thinking about how Reed had very much deserved being given her calls.

He dabbed his lip with his finger. The left corner stung and started to taste metallic. DFCS were able to do their job finally, and made sure the kids were safe with their aunt. 

Hank stood awkwardly by the ambulance dispatch had sent after they’d gone overboard at the mention of an officer assaulted. They had to look out for their own of course, but Hank felt ridiculous letting the sweet woman that hopped out of it check his tiny, little, lip split. It made him feel like some kind of kicked puppy.

He watched Connor talking with the other DFCS worker, the two looking surprisingly chummy- Another android.

“Everything check out, Lieutenant?” Connor asked when he approached the ambulance. The children were examined, and there was no indication of violence done to them. 

In fact, everything was in perfect order between the children and their mother.

Whatever possible reason she had for lashing out at the sight of Hank and Sam, he swore he had no clue. That was more than just a bad day, you don’t assault an officer because of a ‘bad day’.

Well, she was arrested for it, so now she had all the time in the world to not regret her insane decisions.

“Yeah, Con.” Hank said gruffly. He didn’t like him worrying over a little blood.

He felt ridiculous as it was.

“Let me see-“ Connor reached out and put a hand on Hank’s shoulder. 

His first instinct was to pull away, but he rooted himself and allowed Connor to touch him. His peace of mind was more important than Hank trying to keep an image. 

Satisfied, Connor stepped away a second longer than Hank hopefully noticed. There was a strange look in his eyes as Hank let him touch him.

The ride back was quiet again, but this time with a little less tension. He knew Connor hadn’t forgotten he was pissed at him, but his concern for his partner would always outweigh his pointedness. Hank appreciated it this time. He was actually pretty worried about Connor’s recent mood swings.

The day stretched on until Hank was struggling to stay productive. 

He went for a third coffee around evening, which Connor hated, as he drank the stuff from dawn ‘til dusk, completely obliterating his melatonin levels. 

A dab of blood beaded from his cut where Hank burned it on the mug. Ben, who’d been sipping on his own cup, noticed and said something.

“Oh, that.” Hank leaned his elbow over one of the tables in the break room. He didn’t spend a lot of time in there before Connor started making frequent trips. Miller and Nines, accompanied by Gavin’s gracious presence, liked to have little chats with him there. 

Hank eventually started to join until he and Ben had made their own thing out of it.

“Get this shit. We had to show up with DFCS to this lady who’d ‘unexplainably’ lost a child. Weirdest thing, but Gavin didn’t say anything about any violence in her file. So, of course, the sweet thing slaps me.” Hank rubbed the side of his face, gesturing to the cut he’d wiped on a napkin. 

“Connor hauled her ass away right there, but the bitch just slapped me. She didn’t want the social workers talking to her kids for some reason.”

Ben listened with his mouth drawn in thin a line. He looked like he knew something Hank didn’t.

“Yeah, she’s stubborn like that. And stupid.” He turned away to look at his coffee.  
“Just like Gavin.”  
And took a swig.

Hank stared at him real hard for a minute. It was weird, but that was exactly what he’d thought. 

“Uh, yeah. That’s what I said-“

“Lieutenant.” 

Both men turned to see Connor speed walking into the break room. He looked bothered by something, and that something clearly had to do with Hank. 

His hand came up, angled towards Hank’s cheek.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Whoa! Fuck, Connor, I’m fine.” Hank dodged it before he could touch.

“You shouldn’t drink anything too hot until that heals.” 

“Connor, for fuck’s sake. Don’t baby me. It’s a little blood.”

“Does it hurt?”

He sighed, looking over at Ben. Hank felt a little misplaced when he didn’t see any of the amusement he’d expected to. If anything, Ben seemed to be smiling at Connor’s attempt to fuss over him. 

That was....fucking weird.

“Aw, let him worry. I would, too, I bet.”

And that was weirder.

Hank snorted.

“Oh, yeah? Then why aren’t you?” He shook his head. 

These two were just un-fucking-believable.

“You aren’t my honey.” He said it as if he hadn’t just slapped Hank out of all his sensibilities with a few small words.

“Excuse me?!” Hank was sure he hadn’t heard that right. 

Ben turned to see Hank looking perfectly disgusted, then towards Connor. 

Connor stood, face a mask.

Something clicked that Ben shouldn’t elaborate on that, and he didn’t. Just rapt his knuckles against the table and excused himself. 

Hank turned to Connor for him to speak some sense about what just happened, but he was already hurrying back to their desks. 

In was so sudden and so fast. One second they were here, then they weren’t.

He almost didn’t believe something weird like that had just happened, but....now head was spinning.

He watched the tv screen for another minute, not really watching it, before joining Connor at his desk.

Well, things managed to get weirder from there.

Connor actually requested he accompany Hank again on his next bar night. Hank had told himself he wouldn’t be so lucky the next time he went digging, but he’d really be hopeless with Connor around. 

He didn’t know why he’d insisted in the first place, but Hank had to decline. Taking him last time had been a mistake; though, maybe so was handing his car keys to a stranger.

This time, Hank intended to put that motel down the street to good use. That was the best possible outcome to any of this.

Honestly, Connor had such an issue with the whole thing, this was the only way he’d be happy Hank bet. Granted it was still sex with a stranger, assuming he got that far, but hey. No sharing keys, cars, and the privacy of his own home. 

Connor would have to give him that and accept that a man just needed to get some every now and then, whatever the price.

Hank sat in Jimmy’s for the first time in a whole week. He used to frequent this place every couple of days, but Connor was really doing something to his prerogatives.

He ordered a few too many almost immediately, but in his defense, his confidence only came when he was near brain dead. That was when the other brain was forced to take charge, and boy did it have his interests in mind. If he didn’t have to keep up some semblance of being a decent human being, Hank would let that brain think for him more often.

He scoped the place out when he was still a bit more sober. 

He was in that strange place where he could get handsy, but was still self-conscious about having someone to put them on. If a cutie approached him now, he likely wouldn’t know what to do with them.

“Hey, Jim. This might be an odd question, but...you, uh, see that android here lately.”

Jimmy looked him over while stocking the scotch. It took a minute before he knew who Hank was trying to ask about.

“No. I only see him when you’re around.”

“What? But I only met him once- Oh. Connor.” Hank thread his fingers through his hair.  
“No, not him. I meant the guy that I...”

He felt a little stupid saying this. Jimmy had known him for years, and while he’d never seen him take someone home from his bar before, he knew he’d done it at others. 

Hank had bragged about it when he was legally intoxicated on more than one occasion. Once polished off three brandies and looked Jim dead in the eye before telling him he’d just ‘swallowed his dinner’. Real embarrassing when he eventually remembered the next day. 

“The guy you hooked up with?” Jimmy knew what he was trying to say and thankfully spared him from saying it.  
“The android?”

“Yeah! You seen him?”

“Uh...no. I only see him with you.” He said again. This time, though, Jimmy had an air of caution about him. He clearly didn’t want to answer that question.

To be fair, Hank didn’t like that answer, so.

“What do you...? No, no, not Connor. I know you know who Connor is. I mean the guy I gave my keys to last week.”

Jimmy stared at him until the uncomfortable silence told Hank all he needed to know. 

-That Jimmy was legally blind.

Hank fought through his drunken haze to fix him with a very serious look. There was no way they were on the same page right now.

“Jim, that wasn’t Connor. I didn’t sleep with Connor. That’s my partner- hell, he’s like a nephew to me or somethin’.... somethin’...no, but... not that. I...”

Jimmy gave him a shrug like he didn’t know what to tell him, and turned back to stocking the bar.

Hank drank ‘til the early morning, and stumbled out unlucky. 

He did himself in, drinking until he could forget he’d ever heard Jimmy try to confirm he’d slept with his partner. 

Hank didn’t do that shit, and he’d know if the piece of ass sizing him up that night was fucking Connor.

He’d know if the slender thighs that wrapped around his head belonged to Connor.

Connor would have asked him whether he was ‘doing it right’ or ‘where he was supposed to stick what’.

He’d ask if Hank was sober enough to consent to this or if the temperature was an appropriate setting. And he’d ask that because there was no way in a thousand years Connor would let Hank take them back to his trashy house. Not for that.

Connor would ask if Hank was thirsty in the middle of one of them getting their ass fucked, and he’d try to keep Hank hydrated. If they made it as many rounds as Hank had with his sweet, little, one-nighter, he’d force Hank to take headache medicine. Probably several hours in advance.

If it was Connor, he’d keep Hank for breakfast and ride over with him to walk Sumo in the morning. He’d even try to sneak in a quick brushing to get rid of some of that summer coat Sumo’d built up.

Connor would ask if kissing him was a bad idea with his lip still split. 

And he would definitely lick the blood.

Hank made it to work looking like a town drunk, and m painfully sober. He was sporting a massive headache he wasn’t convinced wasn’t a semi-stroke.

Connor didn’t waste any time assessing him. It was annoying, and thoughtful, and Hank eventually got him to lay off. It wasn’t even strange that Connor had that headache medicine on hand.

“You really should keep some on you, considering your favorite activities.”

“You really should quit bustin’ my balls.”

Connor insisted all the same.

Things weren’t back to normal, yet, not by a long shot. 

That day was one of the longest in Hank’s fucking life. He didn’t get anything done without Connor’s help. He’d have his 15th write up right now if Connor hadn’t been there.

Just to add a lovely layer of shit to his day, Gavin was finally off leave. Right when he wasn’t needed anymore.

A hideously familiar hoodie blurred at the corner of Hank’s eye, as a hand slapped down on the edge of his desk.

“Well. You’re finally back.” Hank fixed Gavin with his best ‘die in a hole, please’ voice.

Nines wasn’t far behind him, looking clearly indifferent about the outcome. In fact, knowing him, he was probably eager to see Gavin get some kind of a smack down.

“What the hell happened with Linda?!”

Hank gawked at him, looking over their joined desks at Connor who wore a bright yellow light. So did Nines, he noticed.

When Connor stared back, something began to feel very wrong about the situation.

“Linda Schaner?” Hank grumbled out. He could feel his headache coming back in full swing despite the pain pills. Reed had that affect.

“Who else? That’s my stepsister, you know.”

In all the years Hank had known the shorter man, no. He did not know that.

Hank looked at Connor again who seemed a little less troubled by the news.

Nines had clearly filled him just now, but that meant Hank was left in the dark to navigate the situation (with a very pissed off rat-man).

“What d’ya want from me?” Hank squared his shoulders up. 

What did he want? Gavin’s apparent stepsister assaulted a DPD Officer. Did he want him to apologize? Say he didn’t know? Pretend like that would have changed having to arrest her?

“Well, lets see it!!” A little smile stretched the corners of his mouth. That was surprising, but it meant Hank couldn’t be all that bad off. 

“See what?”

Gavin laughed at something the lieutenant was sure wasn’t funny. 

He looked over at Connor again, doe eyes wide.

“What she did to you.” The shorter man snarked.  
“I want to see the damage, c’mon.”

Hank was really confused now.

“Damage? There is no damage. What the hell are you talking about?”

“I was promised a show. Nines said Connor was real worried about you.” Gavin looked between the three of them, searching for another smiling face. He liked to have an audience when possible. Nobody here was going to indulge his idiocy.  
“He said you were ‘bleeding from the assault’, but you look fine to me.”

Hank slowly turned to Connor under a very different light this time. 

He’d managed to mix the look of terror with sharing Hank’s confusion. 

It’d been a long time since Connor had tried to mask his emotions, not since pre-deviancy. The look hadn’t suited him then either- his personality was clunky and complex enough to begin with.

Nines couldn’t look more sorry staring back at his predecessor, and Gavin couldn’t look more pleased. 

Hank still didn’t get the punchline.

“Alright, well, shows over then. I’m fine. Oh, and your sister is a real bitch.”

“Stepsister.”

“Whatever.” Hank whirled around and whipped his phone out. Very similar to the way he’s ignored Connor on his first day at the precinct.

Gavin left after a few tense moments, and took Nines with him. The android was slightly obligated to go wherever his babysitting was needed. No one else could properly monitor Reed.

That went better than it could have gone, but he had more questions than he knew he’d get answers to.

“Hey, Con... What was that about?” 

“I’m not sure.”

No ‘Lieutenant’. No uplifting and incredibly out of place encouragement. No jokes or back handed comments to get a rile out of his partner.

Just Connor trying to dodge the subject.

Hank chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Well....What did you say to Nines?” He heard what Gavin said he’d told him, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

Only Connor wouldn’t say.

“I said you were assaulted. The woman slapped you.”

“.....”

“I didn’t lie.”

“I know.” 

He had been slapped after all.

And that was assault.

Hank tried to focus on his screen, but...

“Connor, what’s goin’ on with you lately?”

“Nothing, I’m the same as I always am.”

“You haven’t been the ‘same’ since I took home that-“

“I’m alright, Lieutenant. I think Detective Reed had a very disruptive home life, is all.”

Ah...there it was. 

“Yeah... pretty sad actually...I mean I don’t know anything about this stepsister of his, personally.”

“Mm, he’s better off now.”

“That so?”

“Nines keeps a diligent watch. You haven’t noticed how much easier it is to stomach talking to him these days?”

“You’re telling me. ‘Course I noticed.” Hank shifted some papers around his desk and set his coffee beside them. 

Back to work then- he’d been worried for nothing.

Except he hadn’t. 

He had everything to worry about, and this was about the third incident in as many days that Hank couldn’t explain away.

Pretending Gavin had told the truth about Connor, why had he said that? He made it sound like Hank had been beaten or something.

And why and he involved Nines? The two were close, that was no great secret. BUT.

Was Connor so hung up on a little slap? 

Was he so wore about Hank?

Hank could stand to suffer one more Connor related incident he couldn’t quite explain before he went entirely crazy. Only one, though. And on that note, he promptly strove to forget the whole ordeal. Just like at Jimmy’s.

————————-

He couldn’t believe he was thankful Gavin was back. He was ready to throw his zone and shitty casework back at him, ASAP, but he wasn’t so ready to jump into another homicide.

An android homicide.

He hated them passionately. 

Now that he had his own to look out for, Hank had come to understand them a bit better and how helpless they could be. 

That wasn’t meant to sound degrading. Several had unfortunately proven to have trouble handling deviancy. Those ones were the hardest cases, they were just scared. They put themselves in dangerous situations and couldn’t find their way out. That’s where he and Connor showed up to scrape biocomponents off of android -whore house floor, and violent human households.

He wished someone else could take these cases after Connor‘d become something of the softer sort post sentience. 

Some people were just like that- just a bit softer than the rest. Connor was no angel, but being on the more introverted side worried Hank he’d be making himself a target one day.

He was intelligent, keen, sassy. A smart ass for sure- but underneath Connor worried about his people. He was liable to anxiety in the most unexpected times, and Hank hated to have found those times often involved a crime scene. 

He could handle the job, but he was as susceptible to nightmares as the next cop was. Regrets, what ifs, they were all part of the job. 

But the ‘why them’s was the gentler side of him trying to find reason.

There wasn’t any, the world was just cruel. Hank could perfectly understand wishing it better, though. Ever since Connor’d come along, he’d begun to himself for the first time in years.

This recent call was fucked. 

Hank was angry to say he knew the man who’d killed the android. He was a regular at Jimmy’s, and one Hank was pretty familiar with.

“Brandon Malley, male, 5 feet and 9 inches, Italian-American, brown eyes, brown hair, 40 years old. Gun wound to the side of the head. Looks like he did it himself.”

Connor recited what he’d scanned and turned over to the heap of android a foot from Brandon’s corpse. 

“Angie, an AC700 model.”

“That’s like a fitness instructor android, yeah?” Ben asked walking over; he’d arrived a half hour before them.

He joined them at the blood-fest and handed Hank the black light.

“Yes, that would be what her model was intended for, but it appears Angie has been working as a chef’s staff for two months.”

“Ah.” 

“Hey, Ben, how’d you know that?” Hank moved around to examine Brandon with the light.

“Heh, look at me.” He gestured to his lower half.

“I think you’re sized appropriately, Officer  
Collins.” Connor said locking eyes with the shorter man.

He smiled, tapped the android’s shoulder, and left them to work.

Hank watched the exchange curiously. 

So Connor could afford to be friendly with Collins, but give Hank the cold shoulder lately? How come he didn’t pester Ben’s choices?

If he thought Ben looked fine, why didn’t he nag him about having a trainer? 

Didn’t he think Hank needed dick every now and then? Weren’t they buddies? Why was he such a nag about his one-nighters?

“It’s clear what happened here.” Hank handed the black light off to one of the crew and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

“Yes, I believe so. A murder and a suicide.....he was a regular at Jimmy’s.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did you talk often?”

“No, no way. Guy was an asshole. Well...he was always anti-android. Everyone at Jimmy’s was at some point, but...some of us didn’t outgrow it.”

Connor watched him quietly. This wasn’t news to him. The few times he’d joined Hank, he’d gotten some looks telling him to leave. Android’s hadn’t suddenly been welcomed where ever they pleased because of a revolution. Obviously there’d be backlash, but it wasn’t going to be tolerated anymore.

Hank wouldn’t let those people bully Connor out of there, and he’d announced once and for all one night that he wasn’t going to let his friend Jimmy agree to segregation. Connor was a person, and there would be no prejudices about where he could and couldn’t go because some people were ‘uncomfortable’ with some synthetic skin. He was surprised to find most of them easily agreed, likely having to do with the numbers of human on android violence shown in the media. Even the few who didn’t see them as much more than machines felt uncomfortable with the violence done to something so humanoid.

Hank ran his hand through his hair and gave Connor a tired look. There wasn’t much else they could do here with the suspect identified and dead.

By two in the morning, they were carpooling to Hank’s house. 

Because the world was such a kind, fair place, they had work again in 6 hours, and Hank needed rest. Connor lived on the other side of town and he couldn’t afford to miss a whole hour of bedtime anymore. He’d had enough sleepless nights these past few weeks.

Connor, true to Hank’s assumptions about him, had organized his kitchen while he slept. Connor could afford to go a few days without recharging, and opted to stay awake until the pizza boxes, beer bottles, and scattered dog kibble were cleaned up. There was only time to do one room if Connor was going to make him breakfast.

The breakfast he made wasn’t a grand thing, unless you counted your partner making a latte with sugar, creams, vanilla extract, cinnamon, macca, and milk a grand breakfast.

But Hank fucking did.

“Holy damn, Con.”

Really it wasn’t even breakfast. Hank needed to eat something solid, and Connor’d probably wasted the effort when he could have made something with protein. 

He didn’t accept Hank’s praise for that reason.

“We should get going. We’ll be late.”

Hank downed the shit like a last meal. It was fucking divine, and he thoroughly wondered if Connor had gone out and bought those items special when he was sleeping.

Gavin apparently had a nose for the stuff, asking annoyingly particular questions about the quality of the spices and mentioning his own ‘superior blend’ to one up him. The android answered all of his questions and added with a smugness that Hank’s taste for simplicity allowed for a more ‘superior blend’ with his ingredients.

The arguing lasted longer than usual as a few of them were huddled in the meeting room while the break room was quarantined. Someone on night shift had made a fun little boo-boo.

Connor appeared to have gained a bit of his smart-ass-ness back in the past few hours, which fine by Hank. This Connor was his favorite Connor. The one that could argue for 2 minutes about coffees he didn’t even drink or give a fuck about. A Connor that could throw Reed’s insults in his face with a smile.

“Well, for the record, I can take it black. I just like creamers. I can go both ways.”

“You sure can.” Chris murmured, getting a fitting growl out of Gavin. 

He nearly rolled his eyes back into his head and stabbed a finger in Chris’ direction.

“Gay jokes don’t exist in 2039, asshole.”

“Then how did you get here?” Nines couldn’t help how instinctual it was to say, and Gavin had set himself up so perfectly.

All eyes went towards the taller android. A moment of silence passed where looks were exchanged.

“WHOA!” Chris was in hysterics. 

Connor feigned shock.

Hank was just thankful he’d finished that latte before Nines had almost caused him to do a spit take.

Gavin clapped like an utter imbecile, but managed to look like he was the one talking to a bunch of school children. “Good one, Windows 10. Since we’re all being immature, I’d like to address the only virgin in the room.”

Chris belted our another series of ‘Whoa’s and Connor promptly shut his mouth. 

Another uproar of laughter filled the small room, but Hank wasn’t laughing. Instead, he nearly slammed his second cup of coffee over Gavin’s head.

“Hey! Leave him out of this!” 

He was likely doing more harm than good, but he couldn’t help the protectiveness he felt when it came to Connor. 

He knew there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with being a virgin. He’d like to go back in time and wait a while longer himself if given the chance, as nice as it was in the moment. But Gavin was known for his cruelty, and he could turn something perfectly normal into something grueling for anybody, but especially the android.

He was a favorite target of his.

Hank wasn’t about to let that happen. Not about this.

Nines was about to deadpan his choice to remain sexless was due to his disinterest on the matter when Hank decided to take a left turn on the whole thing and surprise everybody.

“Connor can fuck when he wants to- or never!” 

Which was a weird thing to say, really audacious actually. But Hank liked to use shock-value to end a conversation quick where it was necessary.

“You always go too far, Reed.” 

Which, not really. 

It wasn’t any worse than the joke on his sexuality Nines had made, but Gavin could turn teasing into spiteful.

The room was dead quiet, only now there was this strange tension in the air.

“Connor’s a virgin?” Chris broke the silence first again, looking between the two android’s curiously. Gavin was also looking perfectly lost.

“That a problem?” Hank answered on Connor’s behalf. No doubt Connor wouldn’t know some people thought this sort of thing was a joke. He wouldn’t understand why being a virgin could be seen as a weakness.

“No! No, I...” Chris continued to stare between the other men in honest confusion. 

Connor looked particularly pale.

“I just thought... Well, I thought that...”

Chris made a gesture between Connor and him, but Hank couldn’t make sense of what he was trying to allude to. Finally, he looked at Connor and found a very interesting sight, indeed.

His eyes widened and Hank couldn’t help but stare. If he believed being a virgin wasn’t anything unusual, he wasn’t doing a good job of supporting that claim.

Connor stared at his hands, looking perfectly contrite. Hank could hardly make out the face he was wearing, his head was ducked so low, but he could tell it was shame of some kind.

Bashfully, Connor met his gaze, eyes immediately drifting to the side. He tried to keep the waver from his voice as he finally spoke his piece.

“I have...experienced sexual elations, Hank.” 

That sentence alone should disgust him. Hearing that his buddy was getting it on with some rando.

Instead, a little spark scraped inside his chest.

“What?”

“Now who’s being an asshole?” Gavin threw his hand up. 

Nines promptly silenced his partner. 

Hank ignored him anyway and watched as a...was that a blush... colored Connor’s cheeks.

The android bit his lip with sharp, white incisors.

He could hardly stand all the eyes on him, but it was Hank’s that were the most excruciating. 

This look of betrayal. This disbelief, possibly concern, boring right into his oculars.

Surely Hank wouldn’t know what to make of him now, and worse yet, Hank still didn’t remember what had happened. Part of Connor hoped he never would. Another part wanted him to so the rumors would stop.

“Hank, Connor.” All eyes turned to Ben who shuffled back when he noticed the weird tension. 

He cleared his throat.

“Fowler wants to see you two.”

Connor‘d never gotten out of a room so fast in his life. Not even chasing Rupert.

Hank followed in a daze, staring listlessly as they received their new orders. 

It‘d been a long time since Hank was asked to break ‘the news’ to someone. 

He would have thrown his hands on his hips and refused, having a difficult time with such things on a personal level, but he knew that he needed to do this.

It was for Angie, unfortunately.

Her only family was a close friend and she hadn’t been told about the death. It felt right coming from another android, so they sent Connor and Hank. 

Nines lacked the bedside manner to handle her.

It sucked, the understatement of the fucking century, but Hank would manage. It just needed doing.

Women weren’t popular at Jimmy’s bar, and it would stay that way after this. Angie and her friend came in one night after the former hooked up with Brandon on a whim. Her friend brought another man named Alex. Neither male knew each other, but the girls had insisted their first date be somewhere public and with their friend. 

Not a bad idea, a girl and especially an android couldn’t be too careful. Only they didn’t know the area, and they really didn’t know the people they were getting involved with. 

Most were like Hank. They came there to get shit-faced and grab some ass, and were relatively decent.

Brandon had just turned out to be the worse possible outcome.

Angie’s friend was far more lucky, and didn’t unknowingly go home on the eve of their third date with a psychopath. The saying ‘you never really know someone’ came to mind, and it was just as true for Hank as it was Angie. 

He didn’t know Brandon well enough to say whether the man had issues with suicide, but he could say he was a heavy drinker.

If that didn’t allude to some kind of instability, little else did. Hank would know....

He knocked on the door of a rather nice looking apartment. As if walking to the top of a third flight of stairs wasn’t enough misery, now he had to break the news this woman had lost possibly the only person she loved in the entire world.

He’d been right about that. 

When she scrambled back inside with her hand ghosting dangerously over her thirium pump, Hank wondered if he could mentally handle doing this again without Connor around. He did little talking, opting to do that hand-sync thing instead, but he made all the difference being there. Not just for the other android’s sake.

With the meager courage he could get out of that, Hank didn’t go straight home that night. He didn’t drink his problems away anymore. He’d promised Connor he wouldn’t do that, and he kept his word. 

He would, however, attempt to fuck his problems away.

He was saddled in at the Jimmy’s, shooting the usual, and telling him the news about Brandon when an ungodly thought popped into his head.

‘Fucking’.

So, Connor wasn’t a virgin after all? Hank had been wrong the whole time? 

He snorted into his first whiskey of the night.

Connor‘d managed to bag his own, and that was really something to think about. Hank began to play the scene out in his head. 

Connor approaching someone and talking about ‘the benefits of sexual engagement’ and that somehow working well enough to take them home.

If Connor was into ladies, that sort of thing might fly. They were generally a bit sweeter on an inexperienced partner. But that was not the delicate picture Hank’s mind had some what painted.

The idea presented itself of Connor approaching another man in that way, promptly followed by them knocking his lights out. 

Hank nearly choked on his second shot.

Obviously it hadn’t happened that way, or Connor wouldn’t have been declared a non-virgin.

But what if it had, like, maybe the first time?

His throat tightened, the liquor starting to burn more than usual.

That thought was very unlikely given Connor’s incredible reflexes.

Hank was taking things out of proportion and ruining a good buzz.

The thought of Connor kissing someone and getting beaten promptly followed. Connor vulnerable and pleading with his mouth around someone’s cock.

That image was somehow the worst- Connor with his mouth filled up with a dick. 

Hank slapped the bar and ordered a double scotch. 

He needed to wash these thoughts from his brain.

It cleared his head long enough to start prowling. 

The bar was generally pretty empty, but the nights offering specials hardly were. Easy fucks and cheap assholes like him scampered in to do their daily sin for the night.

...........What if Connor found his fuck in a place like this?

Guys like this..... it’d be some asshole that wouldn’t see him past a wet hole to fuck.

Hank immediately stopped that thought. The word ‘wet’ made images of what Connor could possibly be packing come to mind.

One last shot before Hank was bordering depression drinking. He made a promise to Connor he’d do better about that shit.

.....So, what if the guy Connor found was like Brandon? What if they were seeing each other now?

Would Connor end up like Angie?

Fuck. Connor was a grown man.

Hell! Connor was way too concerned with an experienced guy like Hank taking home a sweet little twink! His partner wouldn’t be so reckless with his own sex life-

Hank froze mid sip, drink sliding down his throat and scorching it.

Was Connor jealous?

Hank didn’t know where the flying fuck that idea came from, but it was suddenly very hard to un-think.

He felt a burst of warmth in his face and chest that was very much not due to the alcohol. The idea wasn’t as appalling as it really needed to be. 

Holy shit.

Connor jealous of the cute thing Hank’d taken home.

That was impossible, of course. 

Connor jealous of Hank’s sex life was like him being jealous he couldn’t eat garbage or become intoxicated.

It was definitely not a possibility, no matter how much Hank entertained the thought.

Sorrow gone, Hank managed to shift his depression drinking into the other kind that Connor hated- forgetful drinking.

This honestly deserved it, though, even if Hank had gotten utterly shit faced only days ago- he’d make up for it by avoiding Jimmy’s all next week, he promised himself. This could turn back into unhealthy coping if he wasn’t careful, but this was an emergency.

Screw getting laid. There were real things to die of alcohol poisoning from.

Jimmy was offering to call him a cab when 3 am rolled around and Hank was still meandering through his liquor. He didn’t like seeing Hank in whatever state this was, even if it wasn’t about his unholy depression. He hadn’t had one of those spells in months, miraculously.

He was still drinking himself dead, though, and Hank had almost too much sense to be doing that to himself.

Almost.

“Hank?”

Beer goggles made it hard to see straight. For a minute he thought he’d heard. Connor’s voice and that he’d be turning around to find him sitting at the stool next to him.

What he found instead made him almost wish he hadn’t drank so much.

He grinned and reached out to the familiar looking face.

“Hey, Sugar. I missed you.”  
His hands wrapped around the man’s waist. 

He flinched.

Hank didn’t exactly look like himself tonight.

“Hank,” There was that soft, breathy voice he loved.  
“I don’t think you should do that. You’re not yourself when you’re like this.”

“That’s what you said last time, honey, but I’m still me. Didn’t stop you from screamin’ last time, did it?”

The man flushed. It was so beautiful. GOD, he looked like Hank’s angel. He had no idea how bad Hank needed to see that smile right now.

Why wasn’t he smiling?

“You remember me don’t, ya?” Hank let his hand fall away. Maybe he’d been too presumptuous he’d be happy to see him.  
“Didn’t I show you a good time?”

“Yes....and yes.”

“But?”

“But you don’t remember me.”

“ I....what does-?”

“Come on, Hank. Let’s get you home.”

Sugar stooped a bit to throw Hank’s arm over his shoulders and lead him off the stool when he was stopped.

Hank leaned back against the bar, throwing his weight around.

“Nah, nah. I promised Connor I wouldn’t.”

The most unbearable silence filled the space between them, and Hank knew he shouldn’t have broke it to him like that.

“You promised what?”

GOD, give him the strength to respect his friend’s wishes.

“I, I promised Connor I- Look, I gotta take ya somewhere else this time. The place down the street?”

WOW. Well now he’d fucked it up.

He’d just told him he promised another man he’d only fuck him in a random, filthy motel. 

Good. Just good.

“Hank...” he looked like he meant to say something reassuring to Hank’s surprise, but he stopped. 

His hand came up to touch Hank’s face and, if he were sober, he might see that there was a slight tremble in it.

“You’re bleeding.” 

He’d forgotten all about that, much like he’d forgotten his common sense.

“Yah, don’t worry baby doll’.” Drunk Hank’s hand went a little lower than cognitive Hank would have liked.

The young man inhaled sharply.

“Got it at work.” He rumbled.

Sugar swallowed for more than one reason.

“...I bet you were very brave when that happened.”

He was a fool for it, but Hank preened all the same. He wasn’t really, but he’d like to think every day on the job meant being brave. Even if it’d only been a stand off with 5 foot, furious woman in the dirty suburbs.

“Nah honey. Ain’t nothin’ but a thing.”

“Can I...?”

Whatever it was Hank would gladly agree to it. Fuck, he’d agree to anything right now, he’d missed that pretty face so much.

But Hank grabbed his hand before it could touch him and held it.

“Sure baby, anything, but let’s get outta here first.” He’d prefer not to make as big a scene as he had last time. Jimmy was probably getting nauseous at this point.

Now Hank just needed to prove to them he was able to stand right now.

“I need to take you home.” The man murmured in his ear.

Hank was hoping he’d forgotten about that and was just too stupid horny to insist as Hank was.

“I told ya, sugar, I can’t.”

“Please. Believe me, you’re friend would want me to. He just wants you to be safe, Hank.”

He snorted. The audacity of his cute fuck assuming what it was that Connor wanted. Only Hank knew what Connor wanted, and that was only because he’d been in close proximity with the convoluted fuck for about a year now.

Jimmy had thankfully quit handing him drinks, and he was well enough to stand. There was only a slight spinning in his head.

He looked the few inches down at Sugar and saw that determined little look in his eye.

“You think so, huh? You think that’s what he would want?” 

Sugar didn’t falter but his face seemed to soften as if he knew what Hank was going to say.

“Well, you’re wrong. He wouldn’t be trying to make me feel guilty about this if he....”

Hank knew that wasn’t true in even the vaguest sense.

His frustration and hard dick were impairing his judgment. If Sugar said ‘no’, and Connor said ‘no’, well tough shit for him. That meant he wasn’t getting any.

But Connor’s peace of mind continued to outweigh all else, including Hank’s happiness.

He couldn’t stop himself from openly scorning the android, though. Hank was the one suffering blue balls here.

“I’m sure that’s not his intention, Hank.” 

Why did he sound so sad?

“Oh, yeah?” Hank was talking way too loud.  
“You wouldn’t know shit about it. I start feeling good for the first time in ages because of him, and now I feel like shit because of him. ‘S a fuckin’ rollercoaster!”

He then considered downing the drink someone’d left in the seat next to him. If he was willing to eat his meals from Chicken Feed, he’d be willing to shoot a stranger’s drink. He was fucking desperate right now.

“Look honey, I can’t take ya back home. It’s the motel or nothin’. Please?”

A part of his brain telling him how creepy he was being tried very hard to convince Hank to stop talking, and cut his losses. This was just getting sad, no matter how sweetly the young man looked at him.

Then he nearly made Hank’s heart stop.

“Ok.”

Fuck. He was agreeing?

“Ok?”

The man nodded, staring at their feet.

“Really?” Hank needed to hear some kind of punchline to this. 

There was no way this guy was this desperate to get it from Hank.

He nodded again, forehead wrinkling in the most adorable fucking way.

Hank snorted.  
“No take backs.” 

The other man smiled shyly and stumbled with Hank slung around his shoulder out of the bar, and down the street.

Jim really needed to stop letting him screw this poor kid.

Hank had a long way to go before the liquor weened from his system. He enjoyed not having to think while it lasted, but it made undressing and getting a hard dick nightmarish.

If getting stuck while trying to pull a coat and a button down over his head wasn’t enough to make Sugar run for the door, then Hank was going to get away with a lot worse, tonight. Not a very good mating dance, though.

It was nice to have someone take Hank in all his drunken buffoonery and even laugh about it, but it was another for that someone to look like a five course meal.

“GOD, look at you, baby.” Hank watched him crawl up the bed in nothing but his socks.

It was a fucking image. GOD, he really liked this kid.

He wanted Hank of all people, sure, but he was so much more than that. He could see it in his soft, glowing eyes. His little half smiles. His voice. 

Fuck, Hank was falling for that voice.

He settled above Hank, skipping right to the business, and kneaded his broad chest. Apparently he really had wanted him, as the first time around there was so much shyness. He’d missed Hank, too.

Hank wished he could remember it better, but so much was a blur.

He caught snippets of things. 

At one point, Sugar was opening himself up with his fingers and taking Hank’s cock in the next. There was no warning before he sank down on his thick member.

Hank recalled the slaps of skin, the screams, and the filth coming from their mouths.

“Oh, GOD! Oh you turn me on so bad~!” 

The man wailed and cried and bucked and Hank blessedly remembered some of what he was hearing.

“You’re so big! You’re so big! Hank~”

“Yeah, baby, you like that?”

“Yes, please!! More~”

Hank was falling over the bed like a drunken idiot, but somehow managed not to crush his partner.

It wasn’t until they had literally fucked the night away that Hank had finally outlived his last lifeline. He was so sure the times he played roulette with his gun was going to be the end of those.

“Ha-AH! H-Hank, your mouth!”

“Yeah, sugar?” He ground up into the smaller man with his hands like a vice grip on his hips.  
“You wanna kiss it?”

“Y-You’re bleeding.”

Hank didn’t know what kinky shit they’d been doing exactly for that to happen until he remembered the cut.

He was bleeding.

“Oh shit! Shit, sorry I-“

The man flushed himself against Hank’s chest and licked a stripe over the split, collecting the blood. 

It curved over Hank’s lower lip and spooned the thick droplet into his mouth, and he lay there disgusted and horny and completely horrified.

“You just....”

The man must have realized what he’d done as his face began to mirror Hank’s.

Suddenly they froze. Sugar’s chest heaving like his heart was pounding its way out. Whatever android’s had for one of those.

Hank sobered up several hours sooner than he would have liked to a random, dirty motel with Connor straddling his hips, and naked.

Filled to the brim with Hank’s cock.

Oh fuck.

Yes, Hank had sobered up far, far too soon. 

Fuck.

The worst was still on its way.

Connor’s lashes grew damp as they fluttered frantically against his flushed out cheeks. He was fighting back tears about as much as Hank was mentally fighting with himself.

“I’m sorry. I took advantage of you.”

He sounded like Sugar from the bar, voice void of all robotic formalities and sharp words. 

Just that soft, breathy voice breaking around a few syllables, and Hank tried to remember all the heavenly times it was around his name, instead.

This wasn’t heaven, anymore.

“I took advantage of you while you were drunk. I used you, Hank.”

Everything was moving at light speed.

The older man wanted to be angry at something, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

The thing was was that Connor couldn’t have used him if he’d tied his hands behind his back and blindfolded him.

And that was something to be angry about. 

All of this felt so real until it wasn’t. There was no Sugar, no new romance.

It was just Hank looking through a drunken haze at the only man he’d never suspected. 

Connor came with Hank to the bar that night and he’d never left. He let Hank size him up and touch him all over until they were alone, and then he let Hank fuck him. He let him fuck him out of pity. 

He could have just taken Hank home that night and left. He should have. Hank didn’t know what game this was where Connor thought it was ok to take his pleasure into his own hands.

Hank didn’t need him to keep hovering. He didn’t need him to try so hard to see him happy. Hank didn’t always need Connor.

Now they were in too deep because Connor let him fuck him, and Hank wanted more.

He’d found it at the worst possible price.

He watched distantly as Connor scrambled around the room for his things, leaving in nothing but his boxers.

When Hank willed himself to move again, he found that the catwalk outside was empty. 

———————

A few days passed where he didn’t hear anything from Connor.

Yes, Hank wasn’t in his right mind to talk with him like an adult, yet, but this was getting scary. He’d missed 4 days already. 4 shifts and 1 attempted murder.

He tried not to assume the worst as the most likely thing was that the android was just hiding his face. Hank would love to do that, too, but the bills demanded to be paid.

Work sucked without him. Hank suddenly had way too much time to himself. Like he used to.

The gravity wasn’t entirely there yet. He knew what had happened, he knew what he saw, what he felt, but....it was impossible to grasp.

He wondered many times if he had just had his beer goggles on still, but Hank was done denying.

They weren’t going to work out their issues if he wasn’t. Thankfully, Connor loved to talk, so talking about how inappropriate it was to pretend to want your friend’s dick shouldn’t be unreachable goal.

Hank wasn’t going to let another day slip by without addressing this. He needed to find Connor and at least get him to come back to work. The likelihood they’d manage to have a healthy conversation about what had happen was near zero percent.

Hank couldn’t imagine his terrible social skills when things got rough wouldn’t have him overwhelmed by only three words in. He’d probably try to write the whole thing off, and assure Connor he knew he was just trying to help. Never mind how much this had fucked with his head that he’d been fantasizing about Connor this whole time.

The worst part in all this was how much it made sense under a new light. That part troubled him impossibly more than anything about this.

That voice was so familiar, but without the face to it, Hank had managed to fall right in to how much comfort it brought him. Sugar-Connor....with his big eyes looking at Hank like that. Well, fuck. Hank had seen those eyes plenty of times on Connor, but never in that circumstance. He didn’t know how he couldn’t possibly throw it all together, but he’d seen the same affection thrown at him at 6am while walking Sumo together. 

He’d been given the same big eyes when he gave Connor his well earned praise. And all the protectiveness...Connor trying to touch him when he was hurt. Trying to keep him from getting hurt, and punishing Hank’s afflicters. 

He gathered his coat and started heading for the door when a familiar voice yelled from across the bullpen to get ‘his ass’ in Fowler’s office. Of course he’d waited until Hank was leaving.

He should consider it a small blessing considering how much he did not want to have that talk with Connor just yet.

Hank wasn’t going to argue with Jeffry (until he was in there), and abandoned all hope of leaving in the next half hour.

“Alright.” He threw his coat over the chair and took a seat, looking perfectly annoyed.  
“I’m here.”

The captain didn’t look too happy to see him, either.

He stared at the other man longer than Hank was comfortable with, but he didn’t mention it. The sooner Fowler spoke his piece, the sooner Hank could leave.

He folded his fingers together and searched for the right words.

“Hank, I wanted to turn the other cheek on this. I would like to write it off as a rumor or a sad attempt at a joke, but we’ve gotten past all that now.”

Hank gave no indication he knew what Jeffery was talking about, and sat there with a scowl.

Jeffry sighed, hands wiping over his face.  
“Your relations with Connor, Hank. They’re starting to hinder your work lives.”

Hank must have completely blanked out just then. 

Jeffry continued talking.

“This is where I’ve got to draw the line. I’m sorry.”

“Whoa, whoa, what now?”

“Hank...” Jeffry started typing on his computer. 

Hank didn’t know if that was him trying to shut him down, but he was not having it. He stood and slapped his hands over his desk. Fowler didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“You know I was doing you a favor letting this slide. It’s reached a point where I can’t do that anymore. You know I have to do something.” The Captain rubbed his temple.

Hank was gaping.

“It’s not personal, Hank. You know anybody would be punished for-“

“What the fuck relations are you talking about?! What is going on?!”

If he was starting to sound panicked, it was from nearing the end of a thinning rope.

Fowler looked at him very seriously, like he was deciding whether Hank was an idiot or a liar.

“You slept with your partner.” He finally said. 

Hank could die if he wasn’t so pissed.

“How do you even know about that?” Fuck.  
“What did Connor say to you?”

Jeffry decided he was an idiot, but he kept a cool head. 

“Look, Jeffry I.....it was an accident.”  
That wasn’t even the half of it. If Hank had known....

Well, if he had known, ‘what’ exactly?

What would he have done differently? 

For starters, assuming they’d somehow made it past Connor’s awful pillow talk, and constantly correcting Hank about his android anatomy, Hank wouldn’t have called him all those things. 

Fuck they were awful. 

He wouldn’t have called his fucking police partner ‘sugar’ or say he tasted so sweet. 

He shuddered at the memory.

And then a very intrusive thought sent a chill to the depths of his guts.

He’d only said those things because Connor had been. How the fuck had he managed to forget what Connor had been like all those times? Hank was only calling it like he saw it- a sweet, noisy, thing accepting his cock well into the morning hours.

“I’m guessing this was also an accident.”

Jeffry’s tired voice snapped Hank firm his thoughts and he was brought face to face with his computer screen. 

It took him a minute to understand what he was looking at, but it eventually clicked, and horrifyingly so.

Rk900, this Rk800. I’m requesting we speak urgently.

Unfortunately, I failed to abide by the department’s regulations and have slept with a coworker.

Please respond immediately.

Hank stared. 

He looked between Jeffry and the monitor and Jeffry again, before the captain turned his attention to a message in another window. 

Connor sent a second message.

It is in regards to Lieutenant Anderson. I left his place of residence this morning on August 19th and 6: 04 standard.

And a third message.

I hate to be a bother, but I’m not sure I can wait another hour for your response. 

Was he...was this Connor panicking? Hank was torn between shock and worry.

Connor’d clearly sent that when he was distressed. The 19th was a while ago, and obviously in regards to the first time they’d had sex.

“So, Nines just sent that to you?”

Fowler made a face, lips drawing thin. Hank didn’t like that face. He didn’t trust that face.

“Connor just sent it to everybody. And now I know you don’t check your work emails.”

It didn’t need saying that Hank was utterly speechless, swimming through a sea he couldn’t see the bottom of.

“I....have to go.”

Fowler was hoping for an apology for being a couple of massive idiots, instead, but Hank was already grabbing up his coat.

“Hank! Hank! I’m not finished here!”

Hank broke every speed limit on the way to Connor’s apartment. He shared a complex with only a few other people. Hank didn’t know who was an android and who was human or whether they even talked to one another, but he’d never questioned it. He personally wasn’t a ‘neighbors person’, so fine by him if Connor wasn’t either.

He only remembered that Connor refused the ground floor. 

He rapt on door 12 like he was trying to get inside before a bomb went off.

To his surprise, Connor actually answered. He’d half expected nobody to live there, it was so quiet, but another part of him didn’t expect to see Connor anywhere but his house or the station. It felt surreal seeing him out here on his own, like he only belonged where Hank did.

They stared at each other while Hank scrambled to say something intelligent. 

“Connor... I... I wasn’t sure I had the right place.”

The android looked surprised Hank was even here still. He made to answer when something flooded his features and this dawning horror overcame him.

He did it again, he blushed for the second time Hank had ever seen it, not counting their poorly remembered affairs. 

His hands balled into fists and he stiffened, stuck between turning to go back inside, and standing there to face him. He stayed, but he couldn’t look Hank in the eye.

The last time they’d spoke was...a lot more physical. 

He’d had Hank inside him last time.

Hank seemed to remember this, too, flushing red all over.

“Can I come in?”

Connor carefully stepped out of the doorway.

“Yes.”

The first thing Hank noticed was how white everything was. Anything that wasn’t the walls or carpet Connor owned personally was white. A tablet, a throw, a small coffee table, a few dress shirts he’d left on the couch. It created this clean, homey feeling in contrast to the navy-gray surroundings. The apartment itself was made of much darker colors.

Hank stood awkwardly in his living room, surreality coming back in full swing.

He turned to see Connor looking trapped and uncomfortable in his own house. Hank realized he shouldn’t have asked to come inside. Connor would obviously agree to it if nothing else but for Hank’s sake, regardless of his own.

“Did you know about the messages?”

Connor bowed his head. His face fell even further if that was possible, and Hank wished so much that he’d just kept it in his pants. He knew the answer by the look alone.

Connor knew what he had done that morning, explaining quite a bit about everyone’s weird attitudes.

“You knew this whole time and dealt with it alone?”

“I didn’t know what to do with the information...I couldn’t tell you....”

So he hid. That explained Connor’s attitude, too.

“I thought if I was more formal with you in public, people would lose interest, and it would keep from raising suspicion in those who didn’t know.”

Hurt, embarrassed, worried, alone.

“Connor....” 

The full gravity had finally hit him, and holy fuck.

“Connor we had sex.” 

The Rk flinched. His eyes flickered over to Hank’s in the saddest little face Hank had ever seen.

“No, Lieutenant. You were drunk. I r-“

“Don’t you DARE say that.” Hank stalked forward until he was a foot away. He was angry, but it wasn’t directed at Connor.

“You didn’t do that, understand? Nothing happened that I didn’t want, Con.”

He actually looked intimidated by Hank’s presence for the first time he’d known him. 

His head was ducked, looking utterly dejected.

“You didn’t want it with me.”

Ah. Wow. That’s....

“Yeah....I thought I didn’t.” Hank didn’t know what he was trying to convey with that bombshell, but there was something there.

Come on, Henry, say it.

“S-so?”

“So.” He looked expectantly at Connor, as if he wasn’t the one trying to pry the proverbial can of worms half open, and let Connor deal with the rest.

Hank didn’t half ass anything. He either cared, or he didn’t . This time he was scared to do either. He’d be better of not giving a fuck, but that was impossible, now. He cared more than anything. 

His life was about Connor. 

Hank hadn’t been happy without him, and he wasn’t happy with the prospect of losing him.

Hank wished he’d known that he’d had him sooner.

“Nothing, I suppose. I’m sorry, I... well...”

“It’s in the past now, yeah?”

“Certainly, Lieutenant.” Connor sounded grateful to be given an outlet. There was no fussing- he was just happy Hank was willing to move on.

Hank couldn’t help thinking about how agreeable Sugar was to his advances and couldn’t help likening the two things.

“Unless you don’t want it to be.” He murmured.

Connor’s face fell again.  
“Hank, I don’t think...” 

That they should? That Hank would want him? That Connor wanted to continue this? 

All he could do was ask.

“Do you want it to be, Connor?”

As much as he would have liked to hide under the guise of Hank’s drunken stupors, Hank was asking him to be brave.

Connor wanted that more than anything, but the risk was so great.

“I don’t. I don’t want it to be over.” 

Like this emotional rollercoaster they’d been on for a few weeks now, Hank stayed true to form and entirely misinterpreted what Connor was saying. 

“There.” Hank squeezed his shoulder.  
“Was that so hard?”

“Incredibly.” He whispered.

“Let’s just see where this goes, yeah? We can stop anytime.”

Connor’s eyes went wide, lips parting.

“Wai-Wait, you mean you’re going to...w-what do you mean?”

Hank froze, drawing his hand away like he’d been burnt.

“What did you mean?” 

Fuck, what had he done this time?!

“I meant I don’t want us to be over. I don’t want to lose our friendship because of this, Hank. You mean too much to me.” 

Oh....ah. Well then.

“What...did you think I meant?”

Hank paled. He had liquor to lean on all those other times. This was just brutal being thrown under a microscope and picked apart with all his wits about him.

He swallowed, shifting his weight.

“I thought you... eh, it’s not important.”

Connor pounced on him before Hank could even think about moving away.

“No, wait!” He latched on to the front of his shirt. A familiar warmth spread through Hank’s chest.

He knew this body. He remembered this body.

“Please.” That voice again. That soft, breathy voice reserved only for Hank.

“Tell me.”

Hank had never fit them together before, but it was near perfect. The only thing better was if Connor wasn’t trying desperately to force some confession out of him with it. He was getting tired of all the misunderstandings. 

“I thought you, fuck, I...I thought you meant you don’t want the...you know...to be over with.” Hank flexed his shoulders.

“The sex?”

“Shit. Yeah. That.”

“I don’t. I mean, I don’t want the sex to be over, either.” He looked up at Hank and waited for his approval, for him to be satisfied that Connor had said the right thing. 

His dick was defiantly happy with it, but Hank didn’t feel right that’d he’d made a real honest to GOD confession from his partner to be about sex.

“Hank.” Connor sounded as if he was in a daze. 

He swallowed down the weird fluttering he was learning to like in his chest.

“Hank...please kiss me.”

The other man hardly needed telling, their faces were so close. He could read that look on Connor’s face, he’d seen it before. He ducked his head and tilted it a bit on pure instinct. 

They might have just been too close like that for Connor to properly think what he had said through, but he didn’t care. He would take what he could get from Hank, real or not.

“Mmph!” Connor made a noise into his mouth that made sparks fizzle in his stomach.

It was desperate and needy, like Hank had been purposefully trying to starve him.

He thought about the way he’d clung to him when Hank thought he was some easy fuck. He was a pitiful mess.

Fuck. Hank had eaten him out.

Fuck. Connor had a cunny.

“Oh my GOD.” Hank was suddenly overcome with the physical need to be inside that velvety, wet hole.

“Ah~ Hank~” Connor looked like he wanted to crawl out of his metal shell. He put a leg around Hank’s hips and started grinding. 

The friction was delicious against his hard cock, and soon Hank’s head was spinning. 

This was what he’d been missing out on this whole time. Connor was nothing like he’d stupidly imagined.

He wouldn’t even care if he was, though, right now. Hank wanted him however fucking way he wanted to throw himself to him.

“Hank~ please~ take me to the bedroom.”

Whatever blood he had left rushed from his head and settled in his dick. Hearing Connor moan for him to find his bed and lay him was more than he was capable of handling.

“I’m not gonna make it that far.” 

He took Connor by he hips and walked him against the living room sofa. He thought about bending him over the arm, but the physical need to see his face wouldn’t allow it.

It was a small fit upon further finding it to be a loveseat, but he could make missionary work.

They’d just have to do it sitting up. 

Connor was too far gone to care how it happened. He just needed it to happen.

Hank vaguely worried he might disappoint him; this would be so much different while sober.

Evidently, Connor loved this.

Hank was seeing him. He was fucking him. Connor was being opened and appreciated and touched.

They were down to their boxers in record time.

“Alright, pretty boy.” Hank slung his legs over his shoulders gracelessly, but he needed to hurry.

Connor preened underneath him, almost bent in half with the sofa at his back. The bigger man centered one knee on the cushion and pushed forward. 

All his weight came toppling into Connor. His steel hide skeleton could take it with out issue, but he was more concerned about his ability to last.

He’d come up embarrassingly short in that department the last time, and Hank had had him reeling through a second orgasm before they’d even made it to intercourse.

By the grace of Ra9, Hank cut to the chase.

He sank his cock to the hilt in one thrust and didn’t move until Connor had adjusted to the sudden intrusion.

While it obviously wasn’t, Hank felt like he’d just buried his cock into his partner for the first time.

Everything felt so much better sober.

In fact, it was amazing.

Connor’s pinched little face was a damn vision.

His voice calling Hank’s name when he hadn’t even done anything yet was fucking ethereal.

It was more perfect than Hank’s stupid brain could have made it, and GOD, it was all real. 

No liquor, no highs, no one night stands.

He did the same on the second thrust, and slid all the way home, admiring the shake in Connor’s legs. His hands clawed at Hank’s shoulders, but he didn’t fight it.

They’d been here before, and it was even more beautiful the second time. Connor spreading himself open for Hank, refusing to take an inch less than he was given. It was exhausting, but Connor kept himself wide. Didn’t fight against the feeling of being made full.

Hank set a brutal pace, pumping in, and out, and in. His balls slapped the plush of Connor’s ass, endeavoring to push deeper.

He had the android with his knees against his chest and clinging onto whatever part of Hank he could fit around.

“Hank! Hank! Please!”

“Please what, sugar?” It was impulse and Hank hoped to GOD it hadn’t ruined the mood.

Quite the opposite.

“Please, can I cum?”

Fuck, fucK FUCK!

Hank pushed himself from Connor grasp with a wail from the other man, but this was a matter of life or death.

Expertly he reached down and attacked Connor’s clit with his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed in a circle at a frantic speed. Connor seized, eyes blown wide, and looked at Hank in this unexplainable way.

GOD. Fuck.

There was no way he hadn’t felt Hank cum after he’d said that, and Hank was now rushing to help Connor cross the finish line. His efforts were rewarded with a wrecked, shuddering moan while Hank held him through it. 

He stroked at his clit and did his best to pump his softening cock in Connor’s hole. Cum splashed that pristinely white loveseat.

It was the hardest Hank had ever made him cry, and he was slightly more content with finishing early. Connor seemed absolutely enthralled to be there regardless, adding to the warmth he felt the moment he had those puppy eyes on him.

He pushed their foreheads together, reveling in each puff of artificial breath Connor scrambled to catch. Hank was right there with him, worse even. He’d like to move his weight off the smaller man, but his energy was nonexistent. Connor fucked the life out of him.

So the stayed there squished together, swapping spit. 

It wasn’t until Hank felt brave enough to face him naked that he moved to sit beside him on the couch.

“So...” he clapped his hand on top of Connor’s, resting on his sternum.  
“Everyone knows, huh?”

He heard him swallow and looked over to see the android visibly perturbed. His eyes slipped closed in an attempt to block it all out, but Connor’s brain didn’t shut off like that. He’d never forget what he’d done.

“Yes...” has said weakly.

“Everyone, except me.”

“You know, now.”

Hank snorted. His hand began to rub over the android’s chest, just as his found Hank’s thigh. He squeezed it, saying so many things he physically couldn’t with the gesture alone. Hank understood him perfectly. 

He had trouble with drinking, and Connor had trouble with talking about things. There were worse pairs out there.

“Is this...would you do this with me again?”

Hank made a face, looking at him curiously.

“Fuck you?” 

“Yes.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, yeah.” Hank thought that was obvious. He looked around like he was looking for someone to back him up.  
“Hell yeah. Why are you asking?”

Connor shrugged. He felt stupid for mixing things up, but that’s all they’d been doing form start to finish.

“I just thought... you wanted this to be a one time thing...” He sounded so small, Hank’s heart actually hurt.

“When did I say that?”

“....I assumed.” Not wrongfully, either. Hank might have just had sex with Sugar, the one night stand. 

Hank surprised him when he laughed, suddenly. It didn’t sound condescending or depreciative.

“What the hell is wrong with us, baby?” 

Connor got a funny look then, head slowly turning to admire the mess of clothes they’d made on the floor, and back at the fine, naked mess he’d made of Hank.

“Nothing we cant fix... Just don’t stop calling me that.”

“Alright, sugar, whatever you say.”

“And please delete that email I sent.”

“No way, I’m keeping it. Boy you were really freaking out.”

Connor pinched his face up. He wasn’t the eye rolling sort, but he was coming close right now.

“You know everyone else probably did, too.” That actually affected Connor more than Hank. He was the one who’d sent it, after all.

“I know Fowler definitely did.”

Connor groaned.

“I might print it and frame it somewhere. In the hallway, maybe?”

“Hank, don’t make me send out another one. You are forcing my hand.”

Hank liked this. He missed this. He wanted more of this.

Connor naked with his seed dirtying up his couch, making smart ass comments to push Hank’s buttons in the truest Connor fashion.

“Sounds real threatening. What would you say in it?”

“You know exactly what I’d say in it.” 

In that moment, Connor sounded like the devil without any trace of sweet, doe eyed Sugar in there somewhere. Hank did know what he would say, and he got a chill just thinking about it.

“Hey, you can’t expect me to last saying shit like that.”

“Maybe next time?” Connor wrinkled his forehead and did his stupid head tilt. 

“Come here you fucking-“

Hank wrestled him into the cushions, highly aware Connor was letting him win. 

It didn’t matter- he’d get him back next time he was begging to come.

Next time....

**Author's Note:**

> Connor paid for Hank’s tire realignment


End file.
